


The Road to Recovery

by MakingStarsShine



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Physical Disability, Trouble dealing with past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-14 23:30:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakingStarsShine/pseuds/MakingStarsShine
Summary: This was an anonymous request, for “Get out and don’t come back" & “I regret it all” the reader has a thing with Reverb, and they’ve been trying to help him settle into his new life on Earth-1 (let’s pretend that sexy beast never got the hand), but one day he pushes the reader too far and hurts them (like emotionally) one too many times” so here it is! Hope you all like it!





	

The clock on Cisco’s phone read three forty am, his eyes narrowing into sleepy slits of confusion, as his brain registered the early hour coupled with the knocking on his apartment door. He had no messages, no missed calls, not even so much a a facebook poke waiting for him in his notification bar, so who on this earth was knocking on his door at the ass crack of dawn? He fumbled out of bed, hissing at the feeling of the cool wood floor beneath his bare feet. The knocking continued, semi-insistent with it’s pattern of three, then silence, then three again; the blows landing on his door sounding like they were a mixture of fisted, and open palmed hits.   
  
“I swear to god, if this is Barry again, I’m gonna bar him from coming here anymore,” Cisco muttered, padding into the entry way with a yawn. He stopped before his hand reached the knob, a sudden feeling washing over him that had him wide awake in seconds, a familiar vibrational wavelength that could only belong to one person. He opened the door, to find his doppelganger, stood in his trademark leather jacket and pajamas, hand halfway raised to knock once again.   
  
“You’re awake,” Francisco stated, half surprised and half grateful, “I didn’t know if…I thought I might have to vibe my way in…” he muttered quietly, letting his hand drop back to his side.  
  
“It’s hard to sleep when someone is banging on your door,” Cisco replied warily, eyeing Francisco’s unusual attire, “you do know what time it is right?”  
  
Francisco shrugged, “Somewhere between midnight, and sunrise I imagine,” he answered, looking down at his flip flop clad feet guiltily, “I’m sorry I woke you, I just…I don’t really have anywhere else to go.”  
  
Cisco sighed and nodded, “Yeah, I know, I felt that,” he gestured between them vaguely, then sighed again, “well, come in, we can talk about the details after I make coffee,” he turned away from the open door, heading back into his apartment as Francisco followed him and shut the door. If Cisco had been anyone else in the multiverse, having his formerly dead doppelganger from another universe show up at his door at near four in the morning would have been and insane occurrence, but at this point, weird was his new normal. The formerly dead thing had been sorted out months ago, once Francisco finally decided it was safe, he’d come out of hiding and sought Cisco and the team out to make peace with them. How Francisco had been hiding out on the same earth as him, without him noticing, Cisco would never know, but somehow he had, and he even had a girlfriend living with him much to Cisco’s chagrin.   
  
As Cisco poured the last of the water into his coffee maker, and pressed the button to start it brewing, he found himself wondering what could have happened to bring Francisco to his door, the nervous vibrations humming off his doppelganger bringing up increasingly worrisome scenarios. He turned to Francisco, his double sat staring thoughtfully at Cisco’s kitchen dining table, his brow creased in a way Cisco recognized from his own habits. It was still odd for Cisco, seeing his double so domesticated, it was a little like watching those youtube videos of people with exotic cats as pets, he wondered just how safe it really was to approach him, despite the fact that he had been the one to approach him first. He sighed, taking a seat across from Francisco at that table. “So what happened?” he asked, watching Francisco’s eyes come come back into focus before looking over at him.  
  
At first, Francisco was silent, his eyes flicking over Cisco’s tired face as if he wasn’t sure what to tell him, his hands fidgeting nervously in front of him on the table top, a stray soy sauce packet pinched between his thumb and forefinger idly. “What do you think happened?” he finally asked, dropping the packet and flicking it away, “you can feel those sorts of things now, can’t you? Your powers have progressed that far?”  
  
Cisco narrowed his eyes. Leaning back in his seat he replied, “I can feel basic emotions, but I’m not a mind reader,” he crossed his arms over his chest as he added, “and avoiding the question is just gonna get you kicked to the curb, so I advise against it.”  
  
Francisco winced, “You’d turn me away even after I told you I have nowhere else to go?” he asked, testing.  
  
“You have somewhere to go,” Cisco countered easily, “you could go home.”  
  
At that Francisco laughed bitterly. “So getting kicked out means something else on this earth does it?” he asked sarcastically, “well then please, do explain it to me, I’m all ears.”  
  
“She kicked you out?” Cisco asked in return, un-phased by Francisco’s trademark sassy defenses.  
Francisco scowled at him, “What did you think happened? I just went for an early morning stroll, and got lost?”  
  
“Knock it off,” Cisco barked, startling his double slightly at the sudden outburst, “you came to me for help, you can’t deny that because I’ve already felt it rippling off of you,” Cisco’s gaze was hard as he looked over at Francisco, his mouth set in a thin line when he wasn’t speaking, “so far all you’ve done has avoided telling me what happened, and then fighting me every time I ask questions. I can’t help you if you fight me, so you’re either gonna knock this avoidance tactics bullshit off, or I will send you home, whether Y/N allows you back in or not.”  
  
Francisco looked like a moody teenager, caught in his own nonsense but refusing to admit to it. He reached for the abandoned soy sauce packet once again, squishing it between his fingers. “We got into a fight,” he began grudgingly, “ Y/N and I we…we were…well I was…” he paused gritting his teeth before starting again, “I was trying to make myself a sandwich, I had everything all set up for it, I got the peanut butter open, put it on the bread, everything was fine, but…” he trailed off, Cisco frowning at him as he tried to figure out what a sandwich had to do with getting kicked out. Francisco was struggling to go on, his own mind telling him how stupid this all was, now that he was viewing it in hindsight. He had acted rashly, lashed out without a real cause, other than his own feeling of inferiority. Francisco glanced over at his double, for a split second, debating whether he should just tell Cisco nevermind and just get up and leave, but he knew that wouldn’t solve anything, so he stayed and took a deep breath in.   
  
“I couldn’t get the jam open,” Francisco explained quietly, and he could feel the ghost of his frustration at that time welling up in him, he could remember how it had burned up his spine, into his brain, how it had whispered to him that he was weak and useless, how he couldn’t even open a jam jar, how sad. He swallowed the remnants of that feeling down, hating himself for listening to that dark little voice, after everything you’d done for him.  
  
Cisco was trying to be supportive, he really was, but he felt like he was watching some foreign film without subtitles. He could tell by Francisco’s facial expressions, and the emotions rippling off of him that the jam jar was a major plot point here, but without more information, he was clueless. “What happened next?” he prompted Francisco gently, hoping things would become clearer soon.  
  
Francisco sighed, holding the soy sauce packet in his left hand, his dominant hand…or at least it used to be. “You remember what it’s like to die, don’t you Ciscito?” he asked, his voice sounding oddly far away as he stared at the soy sauce in his hand.  
  
Cisco glanced over at his coffee pot, deciding he wasn’t nearly awake enough for Francisco’s brand of backwards emotional expression. He stood up, nodding though Francisco wasn’t looking at him, “Yeah I do,” he confirmed, grabbing a pair of mugs from his cupboard, “it was the catalyst to my powers, remember?” he poured two cups of coffee, adding a little sugar and powered creamer to his before bringing both cups over to the table. He set the plain cup before Francisco before taking his seat again, steeling himself for the rest of the conversation to come.  
  
Francisco didn’t even seem to register the coffee, or much of anything outside of his own thoughts. His eyes remained locked on the packet of soy sauce, but he couldn’t see it. He could feel it, he could feel how his fingers pinched against it, feel the effort it took the muscles in his arm to maintain pressure, felt the dull ache in his shoulder and chest where a vibrating hand had once been. He closed his eyes, flinching imperceptibly as visions of Zoom’s masked face flashed through his mind, then he opened them and looked across at Cisco once again. “It hurts doesn’t it?” Francisco asked, dropping the packet to the table, “I’m not entirely sure how much of the pain you remember, but-”  
  
“I remember all of it,” Cisco interrupted him, “I remember right up until the point my heart stopped,” he resisted the urge to rub at his chest, his hands clasped securely around his coffee mug as he added, “and yeah, it sucks, but I’m a little confused as to what this has to do with you getting kicked out.”  
  
Francisco nodded, “I’m getting to that point,” he assured Cisco with a half smile. He glanced down, finally seeing the mug Cisco had given him, carefully turning the handle, so that he could lift it with is right hand, “You died, but Barry reset everything, so you got off scot-free in a way, the only lasting damage you have is in your mind,” he lifted the mug, sipping the warm liquid before making a face at it’s bitterness, “not that your mental scars are any less valid, but mine aren’t quite so…avoidable.” Cisco gave him a confused look, and looked as if he were about to ask something, but Francisco held up a hand to silence him. “I used to be left handed,” he explained, wiggling the fingers of his left hand in the air for emphasis, “but ever since having a hand shoved through my chest, my left arm has been significantly weaker,” he set his mug down, turning it again so he could lift it with his left hand, “Y/N keeps telling me that her healing work was just the foundation, I need to work at it to bring the strength back, but,” he lifted the mug, holding it up for a few moments before his entire arm began to shake with the effort, “it’s rather hard to believe her when I can barely lift a coffee cup.” He set the cup down, stabilizing it with his right hand before its contents spilled anymore.   
  
Cisco swallowed thickly, his instinct to rub his chest winning out this time, his hand smoothing over the area he’d touched a thousand times, realizing Francisco was right, he kinda did get off scot-free. He couldn’t imagine what it would have been like, doing everything he did for the team on an almost daily basis, but having no strength in his dominant hand? He was smart, sure, but relearning all his years of engineering skill with a different hand? That sounded like a nightmare.  
  
“Now, back to the Jam jar,” Francisco continued, although he could tell by Cisco’s sympathetic look that he’d already figured part of it out. “I couldn’t get it open, so naturally I threw it against the wall,” he almost laughed as Cisco’s eyes grew wide, but he was too ashamed of himself to do so. “I know it was stupid, it was just a fucking jam jar for fuck’s sake, but I just…I couldn’t handle it, I got angry. Y/N was asleep, but when she heard the glass shattering, she ran to see what was wrong,” he smiled sadly as he remembered it, you skidding into the kitchen, eyes wide as you surveyed the jam coated wall. “I of course, was embarrassed that I’d done something so stupid,” Francisco went on determinedly, “so when she asked me what had happened, I…well  I snapped at her, I told her it was her fault for closing the jar so tight, and accused her of forcing me to use my weakened arm to make it stronger.”   
  
Cisco nodded, finally understanding how everything tied together.  
  
“She denied it, because why would she do that? It was an absurd accusation. But I was just so angry! I told her she was lying, I told her she was trying to force me to get stronger because I was useless otherwise, and then I accused her of saving me against my will-”  
  
“You what?!” Cisco interrupted incredulously, but Francisco pressed on.  
  
“I accused her of saving me against my will, and that was it, that was the final straw. She told me to get out right then, ‘get out and don’t come back’ she said, so I…I did.” Francisco didn’t even know he was on the verge of tears until he felt them burn his eyes and fall, he looked over at Cisco desperately, silently pleading for him to help him somehow.  
  
Cisco sat frowning in confusion once again, wondering how things had escalated so fast during this one fight. Then it dawned on him, Francisco wasn’t one to share his feelings with most people, hell Cisco didn’t even know about the weakness in his arms until tonight, and Francisco had been living on this earth for ages practically…this clearly wasn’t the first fight. “How many times has this happened?” he asked, keeping his voice as soft and calm as he could, not wanting to upset Francisco anymore than he already was.  
  
Francisco shook his head, “I don’t know,” he replied before sniffling loudly, “I’ve…I’ve lost count,” he could barely see through the tears now, “more times than it should have, more than she deserves, and I regret it all, every single time it happens I regret it immediately but I just…I don’t know how to stop myself? It’s like I can’t control myself when it happens, and it’s awful, and I hate myself for it, because she deserves so much better, but what she got was me.” He wiped at his eyes, but the tears kept coming, his head was swimming with them, and his chest was so tight he could barely breathe. Suddenly he felt solid arms circling around his shoulders, and a rush of familiar comforting vibrations hit him like a warm gust of air. He felt so small and weak in Cisco’s embrace, but he clung to his double regardless, needing his compassion more than his pride could protest.  
  
Cisco had hugged his double on instinct, not really knowing what else to do. Francisco was an enigma to him a lot of the time, with his undoubtedly horrifying past, and his personal of seemingly endless self confidence in front of other people, it was hard to tell what the real Francisco was like underneath it all. But watching his double break down, watching all the outer shell strip away until he was just a friend in need, sitting in his kitchen, sharing coffee with him…Cisco realized they were more a like than either of them had ever realized before. Thats when his instincts to hug had kicked in, playing off his own desire for contact when he was most in despair. He hugged Francisco until the crying stopped, until he could feel his vibrations ease from their frenzied waves of panic and desperation, to a softer pattern of sadness and need.  
  
“You’re not useless,” Cisco told him, feeling Francisco flinch in his arms as he broke the silence. Cisco rubbed his back gently, bringing him slowly back from his breakdown. “You’re not useless,” he repeated again, “you don’t have to think of yourself that way anymore. You don’t have to be the most powerful meta on this earth to survive anymore Francisco, you just have to take things one day at a time, like the rest of us.” He carefully released his double from his embrace, squatting down to be level with him, smoothing some errant hairs back from Francisco’s face as his double tried to turn away.   
  
“I don’t know how Cisco,” Francisco replied in a hoarse whisper, “I don’t know how to turn it off, I don’t know how to separate myself from Reverb…I can’t.”  
  
“Yes you can,” Cisco countered, “you survived for so long, without friends like I have, without anybody. You did that, you became strong because you had to, and you can do the same thing now,” he took hold of Francisco’s chin and turned his face to look at him. “You’re a Ramon,” Cisco reminded him with a smile, “not only that, you’re a Francisco,” he flashed him a cheeky grin, “we’re the strongest ones in our family _hermano,_ you can get through this just like I got over my fears and became Vibe…and this time you don’t have to do it alone,” he held out his fist, knuckles out, waiting to be bumped, “you’ve got me,” Francisco hesitantly bumped Cisco’s fist lightly, making Cisco smile again.   
  
“What about Y/N?” Francisco asked, following Cisco’s gaze as he stood up beside him.  
  
Cisco pat his double’s shoulder, “Y/N is on your side too, obviously, I mean she saved your life dude,” he reached over and grabbed his coffee mug as he shrugged, “we can resolve that later though, because she deserves a chance to calm down, and you need some rest,” he set his mug down beside Francisco’s and yawned, “now, I have some spare blankets and pillows for the couch, is that gonna aggravate your arm or-” he stopped mid sentence as the sound of Michael Jackson’s ‘Man in the Mirror’ echoed through the apartment from within his pocket. Cisco pulled his phone out, frowning as the caller ID read Francisco’s name. “Why are you calling me?” he asked, showing Francisco the phone.  
  
Francisco frowned as well, shaking his head, “I’m not, I left my phone at home.” Then his eyes went wide as both he and Cisco realized who it was.   
Francisco dove for the phone, but Cisco shoved him back in his seat and answered before he could grab it. “Y/N? Hey, yeah he’s here already…hmn? Oh he’s ok…well not ok, y’know, he’s upset but- no he explained it all to me…yeah…he told me he was an idiot – no he said he was an idiot, I just didn’t disagree…yeah I know he’s not, but try telling him that when he’s bawling his eyes out…yes…no he’s not crying anymore…you wanna talk to him? Are you sure? Alright,” Cisco moved the phone from his ear and offered it to Francisco, “she wants to talk to you.”  
  
Francisco took the phone from him, as carefully as if it were a glass egg. He held the phone up to his ear for a moment, listening to you breathing, it sounded like you had been crying too. He took a deep breath, “Y/N?” his voice was soft, choked. You greeted him hesitantly, sweetly, your voice making his heart skip a beat, then before he could stop himself, he was apologizing in a rush, full tears and everything, and Cisco could only watch and shake his head. When he wasn’t being his usual cocky self, Cisco decided, Francisco could be pretty adorable. He motioned to Francisco that he was going to go back to bed, and left to let him sort things out with you on his own. You two would be ok, Cisco could feel it in the vibrations running off Francisco right now, so strong he could almost vibe it.


End file.
